There are moments in history when we have the privilege of seeing clearly what those living through the moment could not. We read their stories with the benefit of hindsight and think, How could they not see it? And yet, if we are honest, we are in the very same position. We, too, have blind spots. We may not see them clearly, but we can at least acknowledge they exist. One of the most persistent blind spots in every generation is pride (Proverbs 16:18).

Baxter’s Blind Spot

Consider the example of Richard Baxter. J.I. Packer notes that Baxter was a man of tremendous gifts—brilliant, industrious, and deeply committed to pastoral ministry. His work The Reformed Pastor remains a treasure for shepherds of God’s people. And yet, according to Packer, Baxter was not always the easiest man to deal with.* There was a sharpness about him, a tendency toward what he called “plain dealing,” that sometimes alienated others.

One instance Packer recounts is a meeting between Baxter and John Owen. Baxter prided himself on speaking plainly and directly. But the meeting did not go well. What Baxter viewed as candor may have been colored by pride. It is ironic that near the end of The Reformed Pastor, Baxter writes some of his most penetrating reflections on pride in ministry. He warns pastors about the subtle desire for recognition, the need to be right, the temptation to think too highly of oneself (Romans 12:3). Those pages are some of his finest. Yet his own life shows how difficult it is to see pride when it hides behind sincerity and conviction (Jeremiah 17:9). In many ways, Baxter’s story is our story. Gifted, sincere, even zealous—and still blind in places.

Peter’s Blind Spot

Peter offers another example. In the Gospels, he confidently declared that he would never deny Christ (Matthew 26:33–35). Even if all others fell away, he would stand firm. Jesus warned him (Luke 22:31–34). Jesus even told him plainly that before the rooster crowed, he would deny Him three times (Matthew 26:34). And still Peter insisted. We know what happened next. Around a charcoal fire, under pressure and fear, Peter denied the Lord he loved (Matthew 26:69–75).

Peter’s life is not so much a roller coaster as it is a portrait of recurring blind spots. He was bold and devoted, yet often overconfident (John 13:37). Like Baxter, his strengths were real. So were his weaknesses. And again, his story is ours. We mean well. We are sincere. But pride blinds us to our own frailty (1 Corinthians 10:12).

What is beautiful is that Peter did not remain defined by his failure. Later in life, he wrote what we know as 1 Peter. In it, he urges believers to “humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, so that at the proper time he may exalt you” (1 Peter 5:6). One cannot help but hear the voice of experience. Yes, this is the Spirit-inspired Word of God (2 Timothy 3:16)—but it is also the counsel of a man who learned the hard way. Humble yourself. Don’t trust in your own strength. Let God lift you up in His time.

God’s Call to be Watchful

It is not easy to see our own blind spots—especially when it comes to pride. That is why we call them blind spots. Yet Scripture teaches us that we can be aware of this struggle (Psalm 19:12). We have been born again, made new in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17). And still, we wrestle with the old man until the day we are finally home (Galatians 5:17). The answer is not despair, but humility—daily, deliberate humility before the Lord who sees clearly and loves us still (James 4:6).

There are moments in history when we have the privilege of seeing clearly what those living through the moment could not. We read their stories with the benefit of hindsight and think, How could they not see it? And yet, if we are honest, we are in the very same position. We, too, have blind spots. We may not see them clearly, but we can at least acknowledge they exist. One of the most persistent blind spots in every generation is pride (Proverbs 16:18).

*Citation: Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor (Edinburgh & Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 1974)